Child of Quetzalcoatl
by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: The Otherworld is dying. Meanwhile James Potter is not Harry's father. Harry is not even human, but something he never imagined. Sixth year. Gods, supernatural. WIP. Has been edited a little.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Child of Quetzalcoatl

**Author: **TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Setting: **Sixth year. Book-compliant up until then.

**Plot: **On his sixteenth birthday Harry undergoes some startling changes, and new knowledge is brought to light. James Potter is not his father; Harry is not even human, but something he never imagined. Meanwhile, the Otherworld is fading, and the old magics are draining from the world. Harry enters his sixth year with carefully-guarded secrets, changing loyalties, and the emergence of his Slytherin side…

**Author notes:**

_I despise flashbacks, among other things. Hence a brand new shiny prologue. I'm rewriting the next three chapters, as well, to give them my current level of sparkle._

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**CHILD OF QUETZALCOATL**

**PROLOGUE**

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Lily Potter, under the Full Body Bind and bound to an ancient, crumbling altar, could only stare in terror as the Death Eaters formed a circle around her and the Dark Lord. She couldn't believe this was happening… what were they going to do to her?

Voldemort took a step forward, and lit a candle to her right.

"I call to the East, the spirits of earth," he began. "Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual."

He moved to light the candle near her head.

"I call to the South, the spirits of earth. Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual."

The candle to her left was lit.

"I call to the West, the spirits of water. Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual."

Finally, Voldemort moved towards her feet and lit the candle there.

"I call to the North, the spirits of air. Enter and be welcome. Watch us and guard us. Join us in our ritual."

He took a step back.

"Welcome to our circle."

A sudden wind blew through the clearing, and everyone sensed the sudden change of the magical balance. Voldemort smiled cruelly, gloatingly.

"I call upon Cernunnos, the god of the wild. Bless me with your strength and spirit," he intoned. The magic present trembled. "I call upon Cerridwen, the goddess of dark magick. Bless me with your wisdom and your magic." Again, the magic surrounding them quivered in response. "I call upon the Morrigan, the goddess of death and war. Bless me with your power and favour."

With an abrupt jerk the magic around them began to swirl, faster and faster, stretching higher and higher, until it was a vortex stretching up into the sky. Lily was barely conscious by now. The magic was too strong, too… free.

"I INVOKE ALL THOSE OF THE OTHERWORLD!" Voldemort screamed above the howl of the wind and magic. He held his hands out above Lily's stomach. "LET YOUR PRESENCE AND POWER INFUSE THIS INFANT, LET YOUR MAGIC CHANGE ITS FATE! TAKE CONTROL OF IT AS YOU WILL!"

The magic shrieked its acceptance, and suddenly the moor was still. The air was quiet and empty, only a slight tingle of excess magic remaining in testimony to what had happened.

Voldemort dismissed his Death Eaters, all but one. The dark lord and his servant gazed down upon the unconscious woman.

"Obliviate her," Voldemort commanded. "Then return her."

"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eater bowed. Lily Potter was gently lifted into his arms. As Voldemort turned to go, he never saw the Death Eater awkwardly but deftly aim at him and cast the spell that would remove all memory of this event from the Dark Lord's mind.

**oo o0o oo**

_Rhiannon walked the Paths briskly, excitement building in her despite her attempts to contain it. The Paths were firmer, clearer, the mist dispersed… she was right, something had happened. Someone had called on them. She broke into a run._

_Rhiannon slowed as she rounded the hill, taking in the sight before her. A woman sat on the grass near the path, head resting in her hands. Her clothing was black, her rumpled hair the same shade, but gleaming healthily in a way that somehow reminded those that met her of feathers. As Rhiannon approached, the woman looked up, revealing a pair of golden eyes. For a moment the two simply stared at each other._

"_I thought you were gone."_

_The Morrigan shrugged at Rhiannon's quiet words._

"_I was. But something called me back." She tilted her head back, concentrating. "Something called on me, and Cernunnos, and Cerridwen. Only for a moment, but it was enough to bring us back." It was clear that the Morrigan was, still, not quite present; her expression was confused, and almost vulnerable, quite unheard of for the Goddess of War._

_Rhiannon sighed and sat down next to her._

"_How are they?"_

_The Morrigan shook her head._

"_Gone. Still lingering slightly, but gone. Whatever it was didn't need as much of them as it did me." She wrapped her arms around her legs. "I'll be gone again too, soon."_

_The Morrigan gazed at her seriously, and Rhiannon had to agree with her assessment. Already the Morrigan was growing transparent as she faded from existence once more, the force that had called her back no longer in need of her._

"_Take care of things," the Morrigan murmured. Her voice was thin and faint. "I'm not surprised you've lasted so long, you always were different from the rest of us. You should last a while more yet."_

_She was almost gone. Rhiannon hurried to ask her questions._

"_Were any of the others involved in whatever called you?"_

"_One." Her voice was barely a whisper. "He's been hiding out somewhere, his power gone but his existence maintained somehow. Sly bastard always manages to find a way around things."_

"_Who?" Rhiannon asked; but the other goddess had vanished. Rhiannon rested her head on her knees and wondered what would come of these events. A slender thread of hope burned in her. Not everyone had forgotten. Perhaps someone would wake them all once more._

_-  
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**END PROLOGUE**

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	2. Child of a God

**Title:** Child of Quetzalcoatl

**Author: **TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Setting: **Sixth year. Book-compliant up until then.

**Plot: **On his sixteenth birthday Harry undergoes some startling changes, and new knowledge is brought to light. James Potter is not his father; Harry is not even human, but something he never imagined. Meanwhile, the Otherworld is fading, and the old magics are draining from the world. Harry enters his sixth year with carefully-guarded secrets, changing loyalties, and the emergence of his Slytherin side…

**Author notes: **

_This story was inspired in part by the HP fanfic 'Faith" by Dragongirl16 here on ffnet. _

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_Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her_

_She takes to the sky like a bird in flight and who will be her lover_

_All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind _

_Would you stay if she promised you heaven_

_Will you ever win?_

_She is like a cat in the dark and then she is the darkness_

_She rules her life like a fine skylark and when the sky is starless_

_All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind_

_Would you stay if she promised you heaven_

_Would you ever win?_

_Will you ever win…_

_**~ 'Rhiannon', Fleetwood Mac**_

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**CHILD OF QUETZALCOATL**

**CHAPTER ONE**

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_The woman moved along the Paths, sadly taking in the state of the Otherworld. The twilight sky had faded to grey, and the Paths were shrouded in mist. No green things, and no life stirred but her. _

_The Otherworld was slowly fading, just like everything else. She didn't know precisely how long it had been since she had once seen one of her counterparts, but she knew that it had been a long time indeed._

_Once, the Otherworld had flourished. The light was dimmer than the mortal realm, but greenish rather than grey. Plant grew everywhere between the Paths, and strange, queer creatures had been seen often, while the gods and goddesses watched. But then, the One God came and they had been forgotten. Slowly they had faded, one by one, until only she was left, a mere ghost of her former self._

_Rhiannon sighed at what the Paths had become and returned to her lands._

**oo o0o oo**

Harry Potter stared out the window, unable to sleep.

This wasn't particularly unusual. Since his godfather's death at the end of the school year, and the disastrous battle of the Department of Mysteries – not to mention that prophecy – Harry had found himself brooding a lot. Most nights he had trouble sleeping.

Instead he would sit by his window, staring out at the silent, moonlit neighbourhood. It was rather peaceful, really.

Harry glanced at the watch Hermione had sent him. It was a special wizarding watch, that not only showed the time and date, but could be programmed to monitor the status of friends and family.

_11.59pm._ Harry smiled mirthlessly. In another minute he'd be sixteen. Another useless birthday. He counted down the seconds. _9… 8… 7… 6… 5…4… 3…2…1…_

Pain erupted throughout Harry's body and he lost consciousness.

-

Harry slowly became aware of a dull ache that pervaded his entire body. He groaned, opening bleary eyes and wincing as the pale morning light hit them.

Merlin, he felt different. It wasn't just pain, it was… something else. Slowly, muscles throbbing, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position.

Staggering to his feet, Harry unsteadily made his way to the bathroom, to see if his reflection revealed why he hurt so much.

Harry blinked to clear his blurry vision, and his jaw promptly dropped.

-

The being that he saw in the mirror was not the boy he was used to seeing. His reflection was far taller than he was, and was far more muscular. His hair was no longer springy and messy, but had tamed somewhat to become disordered waves. His face was thinner, and more angular, and his green eyes glowed with a strange light, their pupils slitted like those of a snake. He didn't need glasses, either.

Most astonishing of all, however, were the enormous, feathered, golden wings that had sprouted from his back.

"This is weird," Harry muttered. He was in shock. "Oh so weird. Even for me. I've got wings, bloody wings. And snake eyes. And why do I feel like I've had a personality transplant?"

At this last thought, foreign knowledge floated to the top of his mind, knowledge that he instinctively knew was part of his mysterious transformation.

Harry closed his eyes at the rush of information that whipped past his minds eye.

_Ritual… pregnant Lily Potter… paternity replacement – divine invocation… succeeded… Harry was actually …_

"Bloody hell!" Harry's eyes flew open. "I'm the child of Quetzalcoatl! And I'm a _god!_"

As this last piece of information assimilated itself, Harry's nervous system decided that this was just one shock too many. For the second time that night Harry Potter crumpled to the floor, unconscious, this time in a dead faint.

**oo o0o oo**

Harry regained consciousness a few minutes after he had fainted.

The back of his head smarted, and when he tried to sit up pain stabbed him between his eyes and blackness crept back again, so that he flopped back onto the tiles.

The blackness dispersed again after a moment, leaving him staring at the ceiling, still in a fair amount of pain.

"Note to self," Harry muttered, "never faint when you only have hard tiles to break your fall."

As Harry lay and waited for the pain to subside, he thought about the new knowledge in his head and his new state.

He knew what had happened to the gods and goddesses. Their power was tied to the people's belief in them, and when they began believing in the One God instead, first their power and then their existence had faded into nothingness.

Harry thought that humanity had made a silly choice, really. True, the Old Gods could be cruel, and wild, and unpredictable; but they could also care, and intervene, in a way that the One God did not. The One God was a watcher, detached and impartial, quite distant from humanity. The Old Gods resembled the people in a way the One God did not, and interacted with the people in a way that was possible only for them.

Harry knew that he was lucky that he was the child of a mortal. Otherwise he would have ceased to exist as well. But the mortal blood in his veins grounded him, tied him to reality in a way that the other gods could not access.

Only two others still existed, he knew; his father, and Rhiannon.

Quetzalcoatl had survived purely because he was an oddity.

_The Winged Serpent_, Harry thought. He did not need the belief of humans to survive, because he had his snakes. Somehow, Harry knew, in a way that was beyond his understanding, each of the snakes in existence was bound to Quetzalcoatl, and they provided his grounding force. He didn't exist properly – he was suspended in time and space, and could do nothing unless called upon – but nonetheless was awake and aware. Harry almost laughed as a sudden thought came to him.

_No wonder I'm a Parselmouth. As Quetzalcoatl's child I'm Lord of the Snakes. It was nothing to do with Voldemort after all._

Rhiannon was a different case from Quetzalcoatl. The Moon Goddess, like Harry, had mortal blood in her veins. He didn't know much more about her, though.

-

Harry sighed.

He could think about all of that later, though, really. What he needed to do right now was work out how to hide his sudden changes.

Gingerly Harry sat up, but it appeared that he had recovered from bashing his head on the tiles as this time he was able to remain upright.

He stood and gazed into the mirror. His other changes he could pass off as normal, if slightly odd, but his wings and eyes had to be hidden.

Harry tapped the smooth surface of the cabinet top as he thought, carefully rifling through his new knowledge. After several moments of thinking, Harry carefully began to construct an illusion of non-existence to hide his wings.

Harry delicately nipped a strand of magic with his fingers and pulled it across to twine with another one. He let it go to do the same to another strand. Slowly Harry wove a net of magic around his wings. By the time he finished, no one would be able to tell that they existed.

It took half an hour, but once the web was complete Harry felt a great deal of satisfaction. No one would be able to detect his wings by either sight or magic, and if his wings revealed themselves by coming into contact with something then no one would notice.

Tired, Harry took several deep breaths before beginning on his eyes. It didn't need as much effort as his wings had, but was far more difficult. Each strand had to be handled very gently, and slowly tugged into place around its fellows.

Finally, Harry finished hiding both his wings and his eyes. Exhausted by the morning's revelations, transitions and tasks, Harry made his way back down the hallway to his bedroom and promptly fell asleep.

-

If Albus Dumbledore had known about the events that had taken place at Privet Drive in the early hours of the morning, he would have been greatly disturbed by the possibilities that Harry's transformation had set in motion.

As it was, however, the only sign of what was to come was a faint ethereal breeze that blew through the Otherworld. Nothing had stirred in the Otherworld for many long years. Rhiannon felt it, and wondered.

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**END CHAPTER**

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	3. Return to Hogwarts

**Title: **Child of Quetzalcoatl

**Author: **TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Pairings: ** None at present

**Setting: **Sixth year. Book-compliant up until then.

**Plot: **On his sixteenth birthday Harry undergoes some startling changes, and new knowledge is brought to light. James Potter is not his father; Harry is not even human, but something he never imagined. Meanwhile, the Otherworld is fading, and the old magics are draining from the world. Harry enters his sixth year with carefully-guarded secrets, changing loyalties, and the emergence of his Slytherin side…

**Author notes: **

_So, this has been rewritten slightly..._

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**CHILD OF QUETZALCOATL**

**CHAPTER TWO**

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**-**

Harry was woken by something nibbling on his ear. He tried to swat at it and came into contact with soft feathers. An annoyed hoot met his ears.

Harry woke properly at the sound.

"Hedwig?"

The owl tugged on his hair in an admonishing fashion, clearly annoyed at being swatted at.

"Sorry," Harry apologised. "I was asleep."

Hedwig made a sort of grumbling noise and eyed him darkly, but flew over to her perch, leaving Harry to examine the various packages that had been dropped on his bed. It took him a moment to remember that it was his birthday.

"Oh," he realized. "Did these arrive while I was sleeping?"

Hedwig hooted an affirmative. Getting into a more comfortable position, Harry began to open his parcels and the accompanying letters.

The first one proved to be from Hermione. Harry read the letter before he opened his present.

-

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope that you're okay at the Dursley's. We haven't heard from you all summer. Ron and I are at headquarters with the Weasleys. The Ministry's finally been forced to admit that Voldemort's back, but they're still not doing much. Fudge is gone though; he's been replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be head of the Auror division._

_Voldemort's started attacking things now; Remus says that things are nearly as bad as they were in the first war._

_Did you get your O.W.L.s? I got mine this morning. I got Outstandings in Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, History of Magic, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, but only got an Exceeds Expectations in Astronomy and Defence Against the Dark Arts._

_Happy birthday, by the way._

_Hermione_

_-_

Harry blinked.

The O.W.L.s had arrived?

He looked through the pile on his bed, and sure enough an official-looking letter form the ministry was among them. He decided to read it after he finished opening his presents.

Harry finished reading Hermione's letter, skipping through the parts about how she'd managed to do so well in most of her subjects, why she'd only got E's in DADA and Astronomy, and a detailed recounting of their exams.

Really, he loved Hermione dearly, but did she have to go on quite so much about marks?

Her present proved to be – unsurprisingly – a book. It was titled '_Wards, Geasa, and Other Blood Magics'._

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. He didn't think that wizards these days knew how to cast a geas. It had been one of the Old Magics that for the most part died out with the Old Gods.

He shrugged. He'd have to try and find out what else the wizarding world remembered once he went back to school.

The next parcel was from Ron.

His letter was mostly about the recent Chudley Cannons win, something that had stunned all of Britain as the Cannons hadn't won a single match since 1892. Apparently Ginny and the twins owed him a fair bit of money over it.

As for his O.W.L.s, Ron had received an 'Acceptable' grade for all his subjects but for Divination and History of Magic, which he failed.

Ron's gift was, much to Harry's delight, a Golden Snitch that rose up and hummed when he open the case. It whizzed up to hover near the ceiling, and instinctively Harry beat his wings in order to catch it.

Only when he hit the floor did he realize what he'd done. Harry momentarily felt stunned.

_I just flew without a broom._

After a moment a grin spread over his face at the thought and he flapped his invisible wings a few times, marveling at the power and strength in them.

He grinned at where Hedwig sat watching him perplexedly.

"Guess this means you and me can go flying together from now on," he said cheerfully. Hegwig gave a pleased hoot.

Harry replaced the Snitch in its case, wondering what it would be like to play Quidditch without a broom. Pretty cool, he thought.

After looking through his other letter and packages – from Ginny, Hagrid, Remus and the twins – Harry finally tore open his O.W.L.s letter. He ignored the introduction and everything else, skipping straight to the scores.

-

_Astronomy: Acceptable_

_Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectations_

_Charms: Outstanding_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding*_

_Divination: Poor_

_Herbology: Exceeds Expectations_

_History of Magic: Dreadful_

_Potions: Outstanding_

_Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations_

_-_

Harry was pleased with his results. What really astonished him was his Potions grade.

An Outstanding? How in the nine hells had he managed that? Still, he wasn't going to complain; sure, now he'd have to put up with Snape for another two years, but it'd annoy the hell out of the man that he'd made it into the sixth year N.E.W.T class.

Besides, with the new knowledge in his head, Harry wouldn't be surprised to find himself doing almost as well as Hermione in future. Now that was a scary thought.

Harry shook his head and frowned as he noticed the asterisk next to his DADA grade. He glanced at the bottom of the page to see what it meant.

'_*Highest recorded score in this subject' _Harry gaped at it. He shook his head again.

Really, he never thought he could do so well.

Sighing, Harry stood up and stretched, before going downstairs to find some breakfast.

**oo o0o oo**

When Hermione came out to breakfast a week later at Grimmauld Place she found Harry sitting at the kitchen table, calmly eating some fried eggs.

Harry had developed a great liking for eggs recently. He'd noticed quite a few changes in his habits and tastes since his metamorphosis. For one, he now had very little tolerance for the cold, and had developed a habit of sitting in the sun whenever possible. He'd also developed the somewhat embarrassing tendency to lapse into Parseltongue whenever he was angry, upset, or merely abstracted.

He wondered what other new traits would reveal themselves over time.

As soon as Hermione saw him she gave a shriek and ran over to him.

"Harry!"

Harry found himself being hugged tightly around the neck, with a face-full of bushy brown hair. He choked.

"Hermione… air…"

Blushing, Hermione quickly let go of him. He smiled at her.

"Thanks for the book," he said seriously. "I found it really interesting."

Hermione beamed and immediately launched into a discussion of the different spells and rituals mentioned in Harry's present.

For once Harry knew what she was talking about, and was happy to indulge his friend in a conversation about magical theory. Hermione looked delighted at being able to have an intelligent discussion.

Harry couldn't help but feel a pang on her behalf. It must be considerably frustrating to be capable of talking about things on so intellectual a level without having anyone to join in such a conversation. S

o it was that when Ron and Ginny wandered into the kitchen, they were gobsmacked and somewhat alarmed to find Harry in the middle of an argument about ancient protection wards.

Ron just stared blankly for a moment before venturing to interrupt.

"Harry," he said uneasily, "are you alright, mate?"

Hermione huffed. Harry grinned at their reactions while Ginny helped herself to some of the sausages on the stove.

"I'm fine," he reassured Ron. "I just did some reading over the summer, that's all." He sighed. "I'm going to need to know a lot to defeat Voldemort."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Harry," Ginny said cheerfully in a way that reminded him forcibly of Fred and George, "congratulations on killing the conversation."

Harry shrugged and continued eating, while Hermione looked disappointed at the abrupt end to their talk.

-

Later in the day Harry managed to slip away from his friends and towards the Black library. None of them were supposed to go near it, he knew, and it happened to be festooned with spells preventing entry (necessary in a house containing Hermione), but nonetheless he thought he'd try and enter anyway.

Standing in front of the library door Harry squinted, reaching out with his magic to feel the spells shielding it.

A shimmering wall of magic blocked the door, Harry realized, like a sort of flat bubble with the door inside it. The wall of magic was not a solid unbroken surface, however. Instead, it was a shifting mass of threads, so that gaps were constantly appearing and disappearing.

Harry gazed at the magic thoughtfully before forcing his own magic through one of the gaps. Carefully he widened it, slowly tearing a great hole in the spell. When the hole was big enough he stepped through.

There was a second spell on the door, he saw, this time like a rope tied tightly around both the door handle and the lock. Harry tugged at it until he was able to loosen it enough to pull it away from the door. Immediately the spell dissolved.

Harry opened the door.

His first impression was, _damn this room is huge._

The ceiling was at least twelve feet high, and filled with bookcases that were almost the same height. Each bookcase was completely stacked.

_Wow._

Harry moved forward. It was time to look up the Old Ways and how wizarding history had diverged from them.

-

Some hours later Remus stuck his head into the kitchen where Ginny, Ron and Hermione were talking.

"Have any of you seen Harry?" he asked. They looked puzzled.

"Not for a few hours," Hermione replied, frowning. Remus made a thoughtful sound and turned away.

He could faintly smell Harry's scent, going down one of the more disused hallways.

Remus followed it curiously. What was Harry up to? Moreover, Remus mused, why had his scent changed? He continued to follow Harry's trail until he spotted the open door at the end of the hallway.

The door that was meant to be closed.

Groaning inwardly, Remus entered cautiously, to be greeted with the sight of Harry curled up against a bookcase surrounded by several enormous, musty tomes. He was rather dusty, and one cheek was smudged. He didn't even notice Remus come in, so absorbed was he in his reading.

_How in Merlin's name did he get in here?_ Remus wondered.

There were likely to be some quite dangerous books in here, and Dumbledore had carefully warded the room for that reason. So how had Harry managed to get in?

"Harry," Remus asked gently, "how did you get in here?"

Harry jumped at the sound of Remus' voice, but looked innocent as he heard the question.

"I opened the door," he said simply. He looked puzzled. "Why?" he asked. "Shouldn't I have been able to?"

Remus sighed.

"No, Harry, you should not."

Harry shrugged.

"Ah well. I was just having a look around, and when this room turned out to be the library, I assumed that since I could get in someone must have checked to make sure that there was nothing dangerous in here. Sorry."

He looked apologetic.

Remus frowned at him.

"What have you been reading?"

Harry obligingly read out each title.

Remus was surprised to discover that every one of them was either about the Old Magics or the beliefs and customs that were part of the Old Ways.

He asked Harry about this.

"Hermione gave me a book about blood magic for my birthday," Harry replied cheerfully. "It had a lot of stuff about the Old Magics and I thought they sounded interesting."

"Well, I'm sorry to cut your reading short, Harry, but I'm afraid that you can't read anything more until Dumbledore or Moody checks everything over," Remus told him firmly.

Harry sighed, but obediently followed Remus out.

The werewolf cast an advanced locking spell on the door after Harry had disappeared from sight. The last thing he needed to do was have to haul Hermione out of there as well as Harry. She'd no doubt be much harder to convince to leave.

**oo o0o oo**

Harry found himself only mildly bored in the time leading up to his return to Hogwarts. He still had a great deal of knowledge to assimilate, as well as plans to make. It was clear to him that he couldn't leave things the way they were.

What he needed to do, Harry decided, was to wake the Forgotten Gods, to turn the wizarding world back to the Old Ways. There were some, he knew, who would be very hard to convince; but there were no doubt quite a few traditional pureblood families that knew that the Old Gods were more than mere myth. Once he got back to Hogwarts, Harry was determined to ransack the library for anything that could help.

The only thing that _really_ annoyed Harry about being stuck at Grimmauld Place was the fact that he was unable to go flying.

Even a short flight on his broom would have made him feel better; instead, he was cooped up inside the house when he yearned to feel the wind whipping past his face, the powerful beating of his wings, the air between his feathers. It was like an unreachable itch in his soul.

Thus, Harry was unusually cheerful when he returned to Hogwarts.

_Back to_ _freedom, knowledge, magic… _

He found himself humming happily.

**oo o0o oo**

Severus Snape was not pleased about returned to his position as Potions Master. Not at all.

For the most part he disliked children. He'd much prefer to spend all his time as a potions researcher and brewer, but no, he had to put up with irritating brats that gave him headaches.

The worst of these, of course, was Harry Potter. Potter. Merlin, he hated that name. The boy was just like his father, arrogant and ignorant. When the boy had first begun at Hogwarts Snape had been afraid of what he would see.

None knew of the ritual that the Dark Lord had performed on Lily Potter, Severus had made sure of that. It had been extremely dangerous, really, but he would have done more than that for Lily. Yes, he had been afraid, afraid that when the boy began his schooling his heritage would be revealed.

But the small, skinny child had been the image of Potter, as well as the spirit. When time passed and the boy showed no signs of divine parentage, Severus had decided that the ritual simply hadn't worked. Potter was just an ordinary, irritating boy with an infuriating likeness to his father.

But now, as the boy looked around the hall, Severus was struck by a bolt of horror.

Harry Potter no longer resembled James Potter in the least. His hair was all wrong, while his face was too thin, the cheekbones too high. No one else seemed to have noticed; probably they just thought it was the normal maturing process to blame. But to Severus, the true reason was obvious.

The ritual had worked. Harry Potter was the son of a god.

Severus' mind reeled at the implications. The boy, glancing around still, met his eyes, and a moment later the great green orbs widened in shock before narrowing again.

_And Merlin, he knows!_

Slow, reluctant amusement coasted over Potter's face. One eyebrow rose in mocking inquiry, those brilliant green eyes – _Lily's eyes_ – gazing knowingly.

Unbidden, images rose to the forefront of his mind. A tiny black-haired boy, too small and too thin, gazing at him in confusion and anger. The same boy, older, flushing in embarrassment while he drawled something unkind. A hundred memories, all of Severus making someone with fey eyes - wrongly placed in a commonplace, enemy's face – sting and smart with shame and hurt. Now those ethereal, otherworldly eyes looked out of a face that was as strange, as different as they were.

_Great Merlin_, Severus thought, dismayed, _what have I done?_

**oo o0o oo**

After a few minutes Harry looked away from Snape, pondering what he now knew. Snape seemed to completely understand what his new looks meant, and the possible implications of his past behaviour towards Harry.

Harry smirked to himself. No doubt the man was tormenting himself with visions of a dark, revenge-driven god out to get him.

He snorted at the thought.

Sure, he had hated Snape, but no more than he hated the Dursleys, or Voldemort. Besides, now that he had some understanding of what had prompted the man's behaviour, he found that he was more forgiving of it. For Snape to love his mother so much, only to see her bestow her love on his worst enemy, must have been horrendous. _That_ was the true reason why Snape had always done his best to protect him, even though he hated him; the man loathed him for being James' son, even while he cherished him for being Lily's.

_That should no longer be a problem_, Harry mused. _After all, it is clearly manifest, to him anyway, that I am _not _James Potter's son. Perhaps I can convince him to assist me, being Lily's son and all?_

The Sorting started then and so Harry shelved that line of thoughts for later.

As each child approached the hat, Harry amused himself by accessing his godly-knowledge and knowing what house they would be placed in before the hat had a chance to decide.

After a few minutes this became boring, however, and Harry switched to looking at what house each of the teachers had been in instead. Trelawney hadn't ever gone to Hogwarts, although if she had she would have been placed in Hufflepuff; Sinistra had been in Slytherin; while Dumbledore, surprisingly, had been a Gryffindor who would have been in Ravenclaw had he not argued with the hat in the same way that Harry had.

It wasn't until Harry was tucked up in bed in Gryffindor tower a couple of hours later that he had the peace and quiet to reflect on Snape and how to approach him.

-

**END CHAPTER**

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**AN:**

_I removed a gratuitous Fleetwood Mac reference. It's amazing the difference two years can give you on inserting lyrics into a fic for no good reason... it's a bloody annoying habit, isn't it?_


	4. A Chat With Snape

**Title: **Child of Quetzalcoatl

**Author: **TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Pairings: **None at present

**Setting: **Sixth year. Book-compliant up until then**.**

**Plot: **On his sixteenth birthday Harry undergoes some startling changes, and new knowledge is brought to light. James Potter is not his father; Harry is not even human, but something he never imagined. Meanwhile, the Otherworld is fading, and the old magics are draining from the world. Harry enters his sixth year with carefully-guarded secrets, changing loyalties, and the emergence of his Slytherin side…

**Author notes: **

_This chapter is dedicated to Merrymow, as I wrote it purely because they kept PMing me about when the next update was coming. Yes, this story is still on hold though, because I'm not working on it actively. There might, perhaps, nonetheless eventually be another chapter. Sorry this one is so short._

_Edited for error. Thanks _LADYUNICORN1121956 _for pointing it out._

**Disclaimer:**

**Please note this is a work of fiction, and I do not mean any particular offence to Christians or Christianity. I am sure that the Vatican doesn't have wizards working for it or anything else. Moreover, I doubt the old Celtic gods are plotting Christianity's downfall. **

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**CHILD OF QUETZALCOATL**

**CHAPTER THREE**

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-

Severus Snape was in his classroom a week later, grading the first years essays with malicious relish, when an angular green-eyed face peered around the edge of the doorframe.

"Hi," Potter said cheerfully. The rest of him came around the doorframe and into the room in order to walk forward and perch itself on the bench closest to Severus. The Potions Master blanched, but Potter didn't seem to notice as he settled himself into a more comfortable position before looking up again.

It had been three days since the beginning of term, three days in which Severus had been growing increasingly paranoid. Every time he'd seen Potter, it rang through his sly gaze and every one of his actions: _I know what happened._ Yet Potter hadn't said a word.

Harry had been slyly amused by Snape's well-concealed, but steadily growing anxiety. To tell the truth he had simply been trying to decide how best to broach the subject of his newfound divinity, but once Snape apparently decided that the delay came from sinister motives he kept silent purely for the entertainment. But he figured that he'd tormented the man long enough now, so he'd waited until no one was around and snuck into the dungeons to have the overdue conversation. Amusing though it might be to attend his first potions class of the year tomorrow with Snape still on tenterhooks, he thought that would be rather cruel.

-

Potter looked up and fixed large green eyes on him, a smirk on his face.

"Where to start?" he mused. Severus's stomach clenched with dread. "Well, I guess thanks would be a good start."

Severus blinked. _What?_

Potter tipped his head on one side, an owlish look on his face.

"I'm sure that if my mum had known, she would have appreciated your actions," the boy said softly. He blinked once. "It was brave of you."

As Severus tried to assimilate the fact that Potter actually seemed to be _grateful _to him rather than taking the opportunity to avenge past wrongs, the teen shifted in sudden annoyance and with an exasperated huff bent over almost double. There was a faint _whoosh_ of air.

"Wings," Potter said in explanation. "Uncomfortable things."

"Wings?" Severus repeated.

"Yep," Potter confirmed. His head came up proudly. "I'm the child of Quetzalcoatl. As far as I can work out, I'm part snake, with a pinch of bird."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose at this ridiculous statement and pulled himself together.

"Mr Potter," he said sharply, "would you care to start at the beginning?"

Potter just grinned.

"Recovered, have you?" Before Snape could respond indignantly, he continued, "I think I should show you exactly what I am. I should be able to suppress the illusion for a few moments without damaging it…"

Potter's face took on a look of concentration, and an instant later Severus saw him as he really was.

Pure, primitive terror took hold.

-

Severus's chair toppled as he went scrabbling backwards against the wall, heart almost thumping out of his chest as fear poured adrenalin into his body, no conscious thought present, only awareness of what was in front of him.

"Honestly," the predator said, a hiss of annoyance entering its tone, "It's not that bad."

The great golden wings stretched out left and right so that they draped across the benches, folded against the creature's back as it got to its feet, apparently unaware that every inch of it, from the glaring snake-like eyes to the fluid languid way it moved to the discreet fangs now bared in irritation, screamed 'ruthless killer.'

In the time it took for Severus to blink, Harry Potter returned, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

With a deep breath Severus sank down the wall to sit on the floor, frantic heartbeat easing.

"Is it really that frightening?" Potter's voice asked curiously. Severus kept his eyes closed.

"You entire appearance screams 'predator'," Snape managed to summon up some acidity to inject into his voice as he explained as though to a small child, "The sight of you has the effect that a large adder no doubt has on a small and defenceless mouse."

"Oh." Pause. "I hadn't considered that. Are you alright?"

Severus opened his eyes to glare, only to see the boy looking genuinely concerned. He swallowed the acerbic retort that had risen to his lips.

"I'm fine, you menace." Potter grinned, not at all insulted; if anything, he looked pleased. "What precisely _are_ you, Potter?"

Potter shrugged.

"Lord of the Snakes, and God of something in my own right, although I don't yet know what." A whimsical smile. "Quidditch, perhaps."

According to the girls of Hogwarts, there were several gods within the school: Hermione Granger, Study Goddess; Morag McDougall, Divination Goddess; Harry Potter, Quidditch God; and Draco Malfoy, Sex God. (Severus really didn't want to know what had earned his godson _that_ moniker.)

Severus was surprised that Potter had heard about his 'title', though. Seeling the mild curiosity on the Potion's Master's face, the boy explained,

"Good ears." He grinned evilly. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I overhear now. Excellent blackmail material, really. Is Dumbledore's animagus form really a goat?"

Severus snorted.

"Indeed it is. I have it on good authority that he is at least partly responsible for his brother's conviction for the violation of the 1965 Ban on experimental Breeding."

"Oh? What authority?"

"His."

Potter laughed. Severus sobered, though.

"What do you intend to do now that you are aware of your heritage?"

Potter met his eyes, his own serious.

"Restore the power of the Old Gods through an alliance with Voldemrot and the systematic education and indoctrination of the younger students at Hogwarts."

Severus somehow managed to choke on nothing but air. Recovering from his coughing fit he stared at Potter, appalled.

"You're serious."

"Very much so," the godling agreed. "I'm going to under a lot of attack this year. I daren't think what will happen once the Vatican find out what I'm trying to do."

Severus blinked.

"What?"

Potter sighed patiently.

"Historically the Vatican has been one of, if not the, largest power bases in the world, professor. Within its boundaries people have been assassinated, laws have been written, the path of the world decided."

He wrinkled his nose.

"Never underestimate the power of organised religion. Even today in the age of rationalism and secularism, millions faithfully obey their every proclamation. On a more practical basis, they also have a contingent of wizards working for them and a large, secret cache of dark objects."

Severus frowned at this political and rather jaded view of the Vatican. Potter was probably right. He let it pass.

"Are they really such a threat to you?" he asked.

Potter's mouth twisted wryly.

"Unfortunately, yes. The powers of the gods come from belief, and who believes in us now? The only reason I didn't vanish like the others the moment I came into my birthright is that I'm half-mortal. Which, ironically, makes it possible for me to be killed."

He shrugged self-deprecatingly.

"So to sum up: the lack of belief means I have little power as a god, while my mortal blood makes me vulnerable to death. Not only will the Vatican work this out and do their best to exploit it, but I'll also have the Ministry, Dumbledore, and half of wizarding society after me."

"Is it really necessary for you to ally yourself with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes," Potter said simply. "He believes, and if turned to more productive channels could be a tremendous force for change, and not merely destruction. He was quite respected before he turned to torturing and murdering indiscriminately, you know."

Severus _did_ know, and scowled. But before he could say anything, Potter's head turned sharply towards the door.

"_Company!_" he hissed, not quite in Parseltongue, and sitting back on the bench his shape suddenly dwindled.

-

As Dumbledore entered, Severus blinked at the large bird-like creature sitting on one of the benches.

"Severus…" Dumbledore noticed the bird, "…Severus, why is there a Serpentine Phoenix in your classroom?"

"I have no idea, headmaster," Snape replied, at his snarkiest.

Potter had become a swan-sized bird-like creature with a body covered in glittering green feathers, its head, wings, and long feathered tail glittering gold. Instead of a beak it had a scaly snout, lined with needle-like teeth, and its eyes, currently regarding them both with an evil expression, resembled those of a snake.

"I simply returned after a short break from grading papers to find the infernal creature sitting there. What _is_ that thing?"

Dumbledore moved as though to pat the creature; its mouth opened further, giving him a better view of its teeth, and Dumbledore aborted the movement.

Severus hid a smirk.

"As to that, my boy, no one is quite sure. They are generally known as a Serpentine Phoenix, for their reptilian features and superficial resemblance to a Phoenix. They are extremely rare and supposedly quite magical. They are not birds, however, but an extremely-ancient ancestor that somehow evolved down a different path. It is currently believed that the modern Phoenix, which shares several unique features with the Serpentine Phoenix, is a direct evolutionary descendant of it. No one has been able to study both Phoenixes and Serpentine Phoenixes in great enough detail to prove this, however."

Looking at the creature's sharp teeth and the hooked claws at the end of each wing, Severus thought that comparing it to a phoenix was rather like comparing some sort of primitive lion to a housecat. The resemblance was there, but they were an entirely different sort of animal.

"Setting aside the question of how the thing got into my classroom, headmaster, what did you come to speak to me about?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Well, Severus, I understand that you plan to accept those who received an 'Outstanding' on their O.W.L.s into your sixth year N.E.W.T. class?"

"Considering that I have only been doing so for the last sixteen years I don't see why," Snape replied with awful sarcasm.

The serpentine phoenix made a sort of hissing, choking noise.

"Of course, of course. Severus, my boy, are you aware that young Mr Potter achieved an 'Outstanding' grade on his Potions O.W.L.?"

Severus was forced to prevent himself looking incredulously at the serpentine phoenix.

"_What?_"

"Indeed." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "I trust you'll accept him into your class?"

This time Severus did glance at the serpentine phoenix. It was preening its wing feathers with its teeth and regarding him with one wicked green eye. There was a wordless understanding.

Severus spluttered at Dumbledore for effect.

"Potter!... in my class!…"

"Now Severus," stern expression over the glasses, "we must be fair to young Harry."

Severus grumbled under his breath, but spat,

"Fine."

"Excellent," and Dumbledore took his leave.

-

A moment later Potter was sprawled on the bench again, hissing with laughter. Severus glared mildly at him.

"I'm sorry, but the look on your face as you said you'd only been doing so for sixteen years-!"

Potter snickered.

"Anyway, listen, I'd better go, Ron and Hermione will be wondering where I've gone. I'll talk to you about this in more detail some other time. But the main thing I want to know, is, are you on my side? Think about it, please. I'll get back to you."

Giving him a friendly nod, Potter left the room.

-

**END CHAPTER**

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